


The Faceless

by DaharMaster



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen, Prequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 19:11:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10748007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaharMaster/pseuds/DaharMaster
Summary: Nihlus Kryik was one of the greatest Spectres before his untimely death on Eden Prime at the hands of his old mentor, Saren Arterius. Yet long before that fateful turn of events, he was once a young and very green Spectre, the youngest to ever receive that honor in fact.Follow him on his very first mission as a true Spectre working alone as he is sent after a dangerous foe who has taken refuge in the most unlikely of places: Nihlus' childhood home.With virtually nothing to go on, he must find and neutralize his target before they can leak secrets that could compromise the security of all Citadel space.Told by him in his own words, walk with him as he not only tracks his prey but confronts all the demons of his troubled past, a past he has kept secret since he was sixteen.





	The Faceless

No one knows what being a Spectre is going to be like, and it’s never like what you expect, but no one expects to go home for their first mission. Maybe the Council knew I was from Alkonost and I was chosen for the mission for my first hand knowledge of it, or maybe it was some damned test of loyalty.

Whatever their reason, they had chosen me, the newest Spectre, to find and eliminate a major threat to Galactic security. In their ineffable wisdom, instead of using my people as usual, they had contracted out to a third party to design several of the major systems for their latest model of scout ship.

How many credits they poured into research and development I cannot even fathom, but when all was said and done, the head of the company stole a copy of all the data and designs and fled to the Nubian Expanse.

Through normal channels, C-Sec was able to track him to the Dakka System, and then finally to Alkonost. There, the trail went cold, literally. Alkonost, as far as C-Sec could tell, was just a big uninhabited ice giant, but I knew better. I knew about the Brazier Pit, the half-frozen, half-melted, living, even thriving city hidden at the bottom of a twenty kilometer thick glacier.

I knew because I had been born there, I had learned life’s lessons the hard ways on those dripping streets, competing with professional mercs and smugglers just to feed myself until I was sixteen. I had only ever told one person about it, and I knew that Saren Arterius, my mentor, wouldn’t betray my trust.

Honestly, the mission would have been fairly straightforward but for one minor detail. As it turned out, the former company owner had always maintained total anonymity. Not even their employees knew who they were, no species, no gender, nothing.

This was going to be a problem.

Yet I had more pressing concerns. I had been offered a small ship with a full crew complement by the Turian Navy, but there was no way I could even get near the Brazier Pit without the entire place being tipped off that at least something was going down.

But being the son of a merc and having grown up around enough of them, I knew well enough how they thought, how they acted, even how they moved to easily pass myself off as one. There was of course the risk I’d be recognized, but given that it had been thirteen years since I had been there, it was a negligible chance.

Now all I needed was the kind of ship a merc would have, and I knew just how to get one. I was going to steal it. Officially, as a Spectre, I was requisitioning it as a necessary commodity in relation to a classified mission, but it would still be reported as stolen, and what better way to signal that you were probably just as rotten as everyone else in the Brazier Pit, than to arrive in a ship registered as stolen?

I took the first one I came across, a small Volus trade frigate, the VMV _Bannan_. By then I was fully in character. I looked the part, I sounded the part, I had immersed myself in the world I had left behind at sixteen, and become likely the individual I would have been had I not joined the Turian military.

Hacking the lock on the airlock door proved surprisingly difficult, but I still managed to do it in a flash. I then overrode the decontamination sequence and I was in. I had never piloted a Volus vessel before, but enough carried over from the Turian and Asari vessels I had trained in that I found myself quite at home in the helmsman’s seat. It was even rather comfortable.

That’s when I heard it, the telltale clack-whine of what sounded like a heavily modified and high powered shotgun being primed just behind my head.

I could feel the heat of the thermal ammunition radiating out of it on the back of my neck.

“What have we,” a voice said, interrupted by a mechanical hiss, “Here?”

Based on the positioning of the weapon and the voice, I was already sizing up my assailant in my head. Volus male, approaching middle age, slightly below average height, very confident in himself. That last detail was odd for a Volus in a combat situation, but then again he did have the upper hand.

“A Spectre,” I said calmly.

“Hmmm,” the Volus exhaled.

“You do realize your cabin exterior is exposed to open space?” I asked casually, “I’m guessing by the sound of that weapon that if you fired, you’d blast a nice hole through the main console. I hear explosive decompression is a bad way to go.”

“Ahhh, but you see,” the Volus began, stopping to breathe, “I’d also pretty much… vaporize your entire head and… I’m still wearing my envirosuit. I’d survive.”

“But you would have killed a Spectre,” I reminded him.

“And how… do I know you’re a Spectre?” he replied easily.

“I’m going to use my comm. Unit and omni-tool, understand?” I said.

“Go on, I’ll… humor you. But if I see a weapon…” he chuckled, a raspy heavily aspirated noise. I felt the heat radiating from the weapon grow hotter.

Slowly I raised a hand to my ear and activated my omni-tool with the other, allowing it to play everything I received over my comm. link.

“Spectre Nihlus to Citadel Security,” I began, hailing C-Sec Headquarters.

“This is C-Sec, how can we help you today, Spectre?” a voice replied.

“I may need armed backup at Berth 21, Outer Dock G,” I ordered, “Have them on standby.”

“Understood, Spectre, they’ll be ready in five and can be there in ten,” the voice said firmly.

I waited, the link still open. Finally, I heard the shotgun power down and fold up and the heat on my neck disappeared.

“Actually,” I said over the link, “Cancel that order.”

“Understood, we’re here if you need anything else, Spectre,” replied the handler.

“You have my thanks,” I told them genuinely, “Nihlus out.” With that I closed the link and deactivated my omni-tool.

I took a bit of a risk then and slowly rotated my seat around to face the Volus. His shotgun was now slung over his back and he stood there in such a way that although I could not see his face, I could have sworn he was smiling.

“Looks like… my luck may have finally turned… around,” he rasped at me. My mandibles twitched in confusion.

“You’re not the… first Spectre I’ve met, you know,” he continued, “And you… don’t look much like one. I’m guessing you’re… going undercover.”

“As a Spectre of the Citadel Council I am requisitioning your ves-,” I began but he cut me off.

“Yes yes, I know,” he barked, “But I can provide you with… an even… better cover.”

“Explain,” I demanded, crossing my arms impatiently.

“My name is… Sholtun Farr… Captain Sholtun… Farr,” he replied with his hands on his wide hips. This time my mandibles clacked together audibly in shock.

Sholtun Farr was one of the biggest names in smuggling. He’d move anything from anywhere to anywhere else, if the price was right. The most impressive part was that he had never been caught, in fact all we had on him was his name. Saren, my mentor, and in my mind the best Spectre to ever serve the Council, had been after him for years and had never so much as caught a glimpse of him. Now here he was standing in front of me.

“I could have you arrested,” I snapped in surprise, “I could execute you here and now, you must realize that.”

“But you won’t,” he said plainly, “You know as well as… I that I can get you… anywhere. And if any… one asks? You’re just… hired protection. Besides… I could… use a Spectre.”

“What possible use could you have for a Spectre?” I laughed, “You said it yourself, you can get anywhere.”

“Ahh but you… see,” Sholtun said, shaking his head, “It’s much easier to… walk down the main avenue… with a police… escort than it is to… creep through dark alleys… and backdoors.”

“I would never use my status to help you with your smuggling operations!” I growled.

“Wouldn’t you if it… meant preserving… Galactic peace?” he replied in a low tone, “And think… of it this way… all I do is… smuggle. People will get what… they want one way… or another. Better from me than… from someone who might… take the opportunity to do a bit of… raiding or slaving.”

We stared at each other for a long time, each assessing the other. Then, as if compelled by some other force, I extended a hand. He took it and shook it surprisingly firmly for a Volus.

To this day I still do not know what compelled me to accept his offer. By all rights I should have arrested or even executed him on the spot like I had threatened, but I didn’t. And little did I know that that one small handshake would lead to a very long relationship and would save my skin more times than I can count.


End file.
